


Tongue Tied

by 69moth69



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album), My Chemical Romance, The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Comic)
Genre: Concert, Dancing, Fluff, Fun Ghoul - Freeform, Jet Star - Freeform, Kobra Kid - Freeform, M/M, Party Poison - Freeform, Pining, a little ooc, ghoul is bad with words, i just wanted to write something cute okay, very cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-19 10:48:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22776574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/69moth69/pseuds/69moth69
Summary: Both Party Poison and Fun Ghoul have been working themselves far too hard. Party is starting to suffer from the consequences of missing too much sleep, and Ghoul is getting too involved in his work. A worried Jet Star suggests the pair go see the Mad Gear and Missile Kid concert, and it may be just the thing they need to finally relax and let loose a little.
Relationships: Frank Iero/Gerard Way, Fun Ghoul/Party Poison (Danger Days)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 73





	Tongue Tied

It was a very calm day for the Zones’ most fabulous Killjoys. Kobra and Party were fussing over the Kid’s motorbike. Party was raving about painting the handlebars neon pink while Kobra was clutching his prized bike and defending the original black paint. 

“Hey c’mon Party I let you paint the seat green!”

“And the green would look so good with neon pink!”

Jet sat across from Ghoul, half-listening to the Venom Brothers’ bickering, half worrying over him.

“I’ve made like a thousand of these, dude. Sold ‘em all too! ‘S easy to make a bomb, the hard part is gettin’ a finicky ‘Joy to buy it. Stop actin’ like a babysitter!” Ghoul looked away from his work to grin at Jet. 

“It’s dangerous work and we can’t afford for the Zones’ best bombmaker to lose a finger. Besides, you’d be dead if it weren’t for me motherin’ you. Remember when you got too carried away an’ detonated too early? BLI woulda got you and it woulda been your own doin’, kid.”

“Aw c’mon man why’d you have to bring that up?” Ghoul ducked his head and frowned down at the mess of wires underneath his fingers.

Party seemed to have lost the battle with his little brother. He walked into the Diner, looking dejected. He joined the pair in the booth and started whining.

“I’m so bored!” Party slumped over and laid his head onto Jet’s shoulder. 

“You,” Jet lightly kicked Ghoul’s boot, “and Ghoul need to get out of the Diner. You guys are tryin’ to work yourselves to death.”

Ghoul wanted to protest but he knew Jet was speaking the truth, about Party at least. Ghoul had noticed the redhead staying up far past midnight preparing for last week’s firefight. Korse had cornered him and Party had given up, all the fight left his exhausted eyes in that moment. It was Kobra who got him free and ended up shooting the SCARECROW in the thigh. BLI retreated and the Fab Four returned to the Diner to treat their wounds. Party had been staying up even later since then, angry with himself.

As for Ghoul, skipping sleep to work on his bombs was just normal. He had a prototype for a brand new weapon and he was far too anxious to get a working one. Ghoul was so excited to see it blow up he actually salivated at the thought, and sleep was only gonna push back the detonation date. 

“Hey, someone’s gotta plan our attacks!” Party pouted, falling into Jet’s lap with a dramatic huff.

“And those attacks are gonna go all Costa Rica if they’re planned by a sleep-deprived batt rat.” 

“I’m no batt rat! I been out here longer than all of you! Except maybe you, Ghoulie.” 

“Sounds like somethin’ a batt rat would say.” Ghoul taunted back, earning another huff from the redhead.

Kobra walked into the Diner, kicking sand off his boots and joining the trio in their booth. He peeked over at Ghoul’s latest and greatest, watching the man’s skilled hands weave wires around metal. 

“You two should go see the Mad Gear show tonight. Gonna be a real storm I hear.” Jet suggested, hoping the pair could blow off some steam and finally have a good time.

“Yeah, plus me ‘n Jet gotta race out in Zone 4 to see! Some real shiny bikes are gonna be out there, and gearheads are always easier to trade with when they win.”

“Wait, seriously?” Party shot out of Jet’s lap, surprising him a little. “THE Mad Gear and Missile Kid? Where are they playin’?”

“The ruins off Route Guano in Zone 3.” The corner of Kobra’s mouth twitched into a half-smile.

“C’mon Ghoulie we gotta!” Party shot his Zone-famous puppy dog eyes at the sand pup.

“Fine, but only if you’re the one coughin’ up carbons.” He sighed and took his hands off his work.”Go get ready, cherry bomb. I’ll be waitin’ here.”

Party hopped off the booth’s seat and hurried to a storage closet. He peered back at his friends, a huge grin on his face and a bottle of Dr. Rizzles Poison Red in his hands. 

“D’ya think I’ve got time to re-dye my hair?”

“Party it’s been a week!” Jet scolded.

“Alright, alright!” Party disappeared into him and Kobra’s room. 

“You think you’ll be able to keep him outta battery acid? I hear it gets mixed into drinks at shows to get ‘Joys to spend more carbons.” Jet asked, putting his hand onto Ghoul’s to make sure he was paying attention.

“Yeah, I’ll make sure he’s not drinkin’ any cactus water. I’ll keep him safe.”

Ghoul stood up and shuffled past Kobra. “‘M gonna go get ready too.”

Jet and Kobra watched as the bombmaker disappeared into his room.

“So who’s gonna be racin’ tonight?” Jet implored, seeing the flash of excitement in the Kid’s eyes.

“Dude, Agent Cherri Cola’s gonna be out there! Old bastard didn’t even tell me!” Kobra’s half-smile turned into a full-on grin, and Jet returned the smile.

“Where’d Ghoul go?” Party came out of his room and dropped onto the booth next to Kobra.

He was wearing an American flag tank top and denim shorts definitely rolled up too high. He slung an arm around his little brother’s shoulders, buzzing with excitement for tonight’s show. 

“Gettin’ dressed up. Dunno how he’s gonna match your stupid outfit though.” The Kid teased, nudging him in the ribs. 

Party laughed and blew air in Kobra’s ear, laughing even harder when Kobra pushed him off the seat.

“Settle down, kids!” Jet joined in the laughter.

“What are you zonerats doin’?” 

Ghoul had reappeared from his room. He was wearing a pair of jeans that were a little too big for him, a neon yellow Supa Stinger shirt, and a strip of caution tape as a belt. He had his gun in his thigh holster, and a green camo vest on.

“Aw you got pretty for me?” Party cooed.

“Fuck off!” Ghoul laughed and ducked his head a little.

Kobra stood up from the booth, stepping over his brother who was still on the floor, and headed toward the door.

“We’re gonna head out! If it becomes a death disco you two better live to see another red dawn.” Kobra said, forebodingly. 

“Same goes for you, Kid.” Party got up from the floor and pulled him into a hug.

“No firefights tonight,” Jet got up and stood close to the Venom Brothers, “BLI’s been too active this week for another incident. We’re gonna be just shiny.”  
Jet spoke calmly and put his hand onto Party’s shoulder. The redhead stopped hugging Kobra and pulled Jet in for a hug instead. Party gave him a little squeeze before letting him go.

“You two be safe, okay?” He called after them, staring out the window to watch them disappear into the desert on Kobra’s bike.

“They’re gonna be alright, Party.” Ghoul placed his hand on the taller man’s shoulder, and he turned around to face him.

“Yeah, nothin’s gonna hurt ‘em. Witch be with ‘em.” Party looked grim.

“Hey let’s get goin’. We gotta Mad Gear show to catch!”

Party perked up and shrugged on his Dead Pegasus jacket. He took out the keys to the Trans Am from the worn leather jacket’s right pocket and practically dragged Ghoul to the car.

“Don’t crash us, crash queen!” Ghoul taunted, and Party tossed an empty cigarette box at him.

The pair drove a little too fast down the Getaway Mile, radio singing static to them as the sun set in the distance.

“It’s been ages since I’ve last seen ‘em! Gotta CD but it shattered in a firefight, been itchin’ to hear ‘em again.” Party ranted, his green eyes gleaming in the orange light.

Ghoul smiled to himself as he listened to the redhead speak. It was nice to spend time alone with him like this. Ghoul always thought of himself as a drifter and a tumbleweed until Party Poison and his friends had found him. He was down on his luck, a raven darker than the Witch’s feathers. He had lost a fight with a ‘Joy he tried to sweet-talk out of a can of Power Pup and it ended in Ghoul bleeding into the sand with not a soul around to drop his mask in the Mailbox. He thought he was gonna die out there, but it seemed the Witch had other plans for him. Just before he fell out of consciousness, he saw a flash of cherry-red hair coming towards him. Turns out, Party and Jet were out on a run looking for supplies when they heard a fight go down. They brought him home and cleaned him up, they even let him join their gang and here he was.

“Ghoul? Ghoulie, hey!”

Ghoul was shaken out of his thoughts by a worried-looking Party Poison.

“We’re here. Quit starin’ off and get ready to cause a scene!” Party got out of the Trans Am, locking the doors once Ghoul had also gotten out. 

Ghoul looked around to take in the sight. About a hundred ‘Joys were filing into the ruins, bright hair and neon jackets everywhere. All the bright colors made him smile, but he was still nervous about this show going Costa Rica and turning into a death disco. Party didn’t seem to share his nerves, and soon he was being led through crowds of killjoys towards the makeshift stage. The opening band was just about to start their set, and Party was eating it up. His green eyes were nearly black with excitement and he was dancing a little. Ghoul smiled and audibly sighed as he watched the redhead have the time of his life. The band started playing a slower song and Party turned to Ghoul. The taller man put his hands on Ghoul’s waist and swayed a little. 

Ghoul, confused, reached up and wrapped his arms around Party’s neck and pulled him down to talk to him over the deafening speakers. 

“What’re we doin’?” Ghoul yelled into the redhead’s neck.

“Dancin’!” He yelled back and pulled Ghoul a little closer.

He gave in and rested his head against Party’s chest. This felt right, and Ghoul’s worries of a death disco faded away into the music and the warmth of Party’s heartbeat on his cheek. They stayed like this for the rest of the song, swaying gently to the tempo. Ghoul realized in that moment that he had fallen too far for his cherry bomb. The song faded out into static and the opening band left the stage. The pair disentangled themselves and Party started rocking on his heels, bouncing a little. 

“So ready to see them again!” He shouted at Ghoul, who gave him a grin.

After what seemed an eternity, the Mad Gear and Missile Kid came on stage.

“Are you ready to get digital tonight, Ritalin rats and crash queens? We got quite the show cookin’ up for you sand pups and burn outs!” Mad Gear called out to the audience, who screamed back. 

He launched into a heavy song about greyscale blood in the sand and even the stiffest of lawyers lost themselves in the sound of Mad Gear screaming into the night. Party screamed the lyrics right back at the band, and Ghoul had to take a moment to watch him unwind. Ghoul eventually started yelping and hollering nonsense at the string kings up on stage, losing himself into Mad Gear’s music.

He ended his set with a song about porno-droids, batteries, and arson. Ghoul looked over to Party, who was absolutely having the time of his life. Party caught his gaze, grabbed a fistful of Ghoul’s vest and pulled him in for a too-rough kiss. Ghoul could taste blood on his lips and he melted into Party. The pair of killjoys tore at each other, nearly falling into a couple. The song faded out into feedback and Mad Gear stood atop an amp to address the audience. Party pulled himself off of Ghoul, grinning like he had gone cage mad.

“Good night, motorbabies and tumbleweeds! Thank you for your love, your tears, and especially your carbons! Without you I would be dusted a long time ago, so until we meet again keep your guns close and your favorite record closer!”

Mad Gear hopped off the amp and helped the others on stage remove their equipment. Killjoys were flitting out of the venue, buying CDs, getting deadfaced on battery acid, or stumbling around wasted on cactus water and cordial. 

“Wha-what the fuck Party?” Ghoul was still breathless, his head swimming.

“What’d’ya mean?” Party looked floral, like he hadn’t just kissed Ghoul so hard he split the shorter man’s lip.

“You got all...all chapter 11 on me man.” Shit, that came out wrong. Ghoul silently cursed himself.

“Oh. Yeah. Sorry.” Party’s face fell, and he stalked back to the Trans Am.

“Party wait I-”

Ghoul cut himself off, the redhead wouldn’t be able to hear him anyway. He dug around in his pockets and found a couple carbons and a plan formed in his head.

Ghoul ran out of the ruins, 15 minutes after Party had stomped off to the car. He was a little surprised to see the Trans Am still there, albeit with Party sulking in the driver’s seat. Ghoul got into the car and immediately began apologizing.

“Party ‘m so sorry about what I said, I- here.” Ghoul stumbled a little over his words and he shoved a CD into the redhead’s hands.

Party looked down at the CD Ghoul gave him. “To Party Poison. You’re a cherry bomb! - XO, Mad Gear” was scrawled out in black ink on the plastic case. Party’s heart leaped into his throat and he turned to Ghoul, a huge grin found its way onto his face.

“You got him to sign a CD for me?! Oh, Fun Ghoul you’re a doll!” Party threw himself at Ghoul, wrapping his arms around him and pushing him down onto his back.

“I’m uh, chapter 11 for you too, cherry bomb.” 

Party laughed a little and planted a far gentler kiss onto Ghoul’s split lip, pulling away when he winced.

“I’m uh, sorry about your lip.” Party looked away sheepishly, his face turning pink.

Ghoul let out a tiny laugh and reached up to run his fingers through Party’s hair.

“You’re my favorite record, Party Poison.” 

Ghoul looked like he was dreaming before he realized what he had said. He put a hand over his mouth and blushed red.

“I love you too, Ghoulie.” Party leaned down and rested his head in the crook of Ghoul’s neck.

“How could you love a raven like me?”

“It’s easy,” Party sat back so he was resting his weight onto Ghoul’s lower abdomen, “you’re smart, you’re pretty, and not to mention you’ve saved my ass more times than I can count.”

“And,” Party continued before Ghoul could speak, “you’re no raven. You may have hair blacker than the Witch’s feathers but you’re luckier than a fuckin’ shower curtain. Haven’t been ghosted since I met you and that’s proof enough.” 

Ghoul looked like he was about to cry, and Party laughed before pulling him up and into his arms. Ghoul wrapped his arms around the redhead and kissed his jawbone before tucking his head into the crook of Party’s neck. 

“As much as I love sittin’ like this, Ghoulie, I gotta get us home before Kobra ‘n Jet start to think we got ghosted.” Party ruffled Ghoul’s hair a little before pulling away from him.

Party started the car and began the long drive back to the Diner while Ghoul put on Mad Gear’s CD. Ghoul shuffled a little closer to Party and laid his head on his shoulder, looking up to catch a smile grace Party’s lips. Ghoul fell asleep soon after that, Mad Gear’s screaming over the hum of background radiation soothing him like a lullaby. 

“-so damn heavy.”

Ghoul awoke to the sound of Party grumbling. He opened his eyes and saw that Party was doing his best to carry Ghoul out of the car and back into the Diner. He turned his head to tuck his nose into the taller man’s chest. He muttered an offering to just walk, but Party was determined and they finally made it back inside.

“Where we goin’?” Party looked down at Ghoul, hoping for a quick response to ease his aching arms.

“‘M room.”

“Alright.”

Party let out a dramatic sigh after he set Ghoul down, stretching out his arms and rubbing his shoulders.

“Goodnight, Ghoulie.” 

Party gave him a smile and turned to leave when Ghoul reached out and grabbed the redhead’s sleeve to pull him back towards him.

“Stay here? ‘S cold.” Ghoul flashed him a pair of puppy dog eyes and who was Party to resist?

“Alright, lemme go get changed into somethin’ comfy.”

Ghoul released Party’s jacket sleeve and watched him leave the room before sitting up off the pile of blankets and pillows he called a bed. Ghoul peeled off his vest and jeans and looked around for something warmer and softer. He settled on a pair of flannel pants and an old long sleeve shirt than had seen far better days. He got back into his warm “bed” and waited for Party to come back. Ghoul could hear him talking a little too fast to someone, but he couldn’t make out any words. He did however hear Kobra Kid say; “Stop makin’ him wait, dumbass.”

“Sorry about that, Kobra was just fillin’ me in on the race.” Party opened the door to Ghoul’s room and hurriedly closed it.

The redhead flopped down onto the nest of blankets next to Ghoul and writhed a little until he got comfortable. Ghoul shuffled closer to him and laid his head onto Party’s chest, feeling the other man’s heartbeat rise. Ghoul snickered and wrapped an arm around his torso.

The pair of killjoys fell asleep at a reasonable time for the first time in about a month, perhaps Jet was right about the concert being exactly what they needed.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I know this is a hard change of pace from my previous work, but don't worry I've got more hurt/comfort cooking up! Have a good day/night and I hope you enjoyed this little story! :)
> 
> also shoutout to the killjoy slang dictionary, I kept referring to it to make sure I got everything right!


End file.
